In the end, she conceded that Han and Dancer would go on their own, with backing from Gryphon and Mordra.

“We’re going by way of Ragmarket,” Han said. “Dancer and I still keep our horses down there, and that way I can check in with my eyes and ears. I need to talk to Jemson, too. Something about a wedding.” Han grinned and tilted her face up for a kiss. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

When he left, it was like he had taken the failing daylight with him.

I can’t protect him all the time, Raisa thought. Just like he can’t protect me.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have plenty to do. Raisa plowed through a mountain of paperwork—requisitions for supplies for the new quartermaster, trade agreements with Carthis and other overseas countries, since trade to the south had been stymied by the war.

Until there came a pounding on the door. “Your Majesty? It’s Mick.”

“Come,” Raisa said, putting down her pen.

Cat was halfway to the door when Mick burst into the room, waving an envelope. “This just came in from the guardhouse. Message from Lord Alister. I’m told it’s urgent.”

Already? It’s too soon to be an answer from the council, Raisa thought. She surged to her feet and extended her hand.

Mick handed her the envelope. It was sealed with Han’s streetlord symbol, a vertical line with a lightning bolt across it. The staff-and-flash.

“Wait outside, in case we need to send an answer,” Raisa said.

Mick bowed himself out.

The note was written in Han’s upright, scrawling hand.

Raisa, I’m at the warehouse. I have some new information about the wizard killings. We’ve had it all wrong. Come right away. Bring Cat, keep it quiet, and be careful. H. Alister

“What is it?” Cat was trying to read upside down. “Is Dancer with him? Is he all right?”

Raisa shook her head, glancing at the message again. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say. He’s in Ragmarket—at the warehouse.” She looked up at Cat. “The warehouse? What warehouse?”

“I know where it is,” Cat said, her voice low and strained. “Dancer has a metalshop there. It’s in Pilfer Alley, where Han’s old crib was. That’s where he meets his eyes and ears.”

Pilfer Alley! The night that Ragmarket burned, Micah Bayar had shown her a warehouse he described as Han’s headquarters, one of the few buildings spared in all of Ragmarket.

“All right, then,” Raisa snapped. “Let’s go.” Shrugging into her cloak and grabbing her battle staff, Raisa slammed open the door, nearly hitting Mick.

“Mick—go find Captain Byrne. Give him this note. Don’t give it to anyone else but him. Tell him I’ve gone to meet Lord Alister.”

Mick rubbed his chin. “Your Majesty, why not wait here and see if Captain Byrne wants to—”